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" "Mr. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. ‘The whole town is talking. Whenever they stepped from the chairs, he stepped down. Mr. “If you speak—farewell. Wasn’t it—a little bit of a scene?” “Oh! let me see.
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